Stop me if this sounds familiar - the discussion of the clocks going back fills you with a sense of dread. As the darker mornings roll in you lose any sense of motivation as you begin to grieve your lost social life and contemplate what TV programmes you’re going to watch as you count down the days until the sun becomes a regular visitor again in spring.
Until recently that was me - caught between the dread of gloomy days and early nights while battling a strange sense of guilt that comes with wishing your life away. Truthfully it wasn’t until I spent winter in a place that doesn’t see any sunlight whatsoever for 6 weeks that I finally figured out how to shift my mindset - because realistically, if anyone can figure out how to make the best of a dark day it’s going to be the people who experience nothing but darkness for weeks on end.
I’ve spoken about how Norway made me fall in love with winter, but these are the things I actually changed to finally embrace the darkest season.
Bringing Light In -
One of the first things I noticed when travelling around Norway in winter is the lighting - if you can’t rely on the sun to light your space then you’d better do it yourself! I’ll admit that a drizzly day in the UK is a lot less extreme than 6 weeks of polar night, but the same principle stands. Every cafe I visited was packed to the rafters with multiple different kinds of lighting - fairy lights, tea lights, floor lamps radiating warm white lights, and of the course a trusty advent star (or several). For a lot of British people, Hygge was a short-lived trend, but for the Scandinavians it’s part of every winter. Bringing that logic home with me made such a difference.
In the bedroom I’ve installed a dimmable fairy light curtain behind the bed - it’s surprising how much easier it is to get out of bed in the morning when you wake up somewhere that feels warm and cosy and you’re not being rudely awoken by turning a large lamp on first thing. We also have a mirror on the opposite wall - it was a happy accident but I love seeing the fairy lights reflected back at us.
In the lounge we have a small lamp behind the TV to give a cosy backlit glow, as well as fairy lights that run along the ceiling in front of the sofa. I like to have a candle (or several) lit whenever we’re spending some time sat on the sofa, but I’ve recently discovered the magic that are rechargeable LED candles so I dot a few of those around too.
It’s not so much about replacing light, but more embracing the darkness. Trying to recreate daylight often creates a depressing atmosphere that only highlights the darkness outside. Leaning into the darkness and finding ways to make the most of it is what really helps me. As I write this, I’m sat on the sofa under a blanket with a candle lit to my left, some LED candles dotted about on my right, and the ceiling-mounted fairy lights turned on. Excessive? Maybe, but it’s worth it for the amount of joy that it brings me.
Seasonal Exclusivity -
Strap in, this one is going to take some explaining.
You know how everyone seems to have a season where they thrive? Every September I witness the divide between people mourning summer and those who can’t wait for the darker evenings - the one thing I notice an absence of is those who occupy the space in between. Regardless of which side of the argument you stand, the one thing everyone has in common are the things that they look forward to about their favourite season.
My hack? Find something to look forward to in every season.
Finding things to look forward to that can only be enjoyed in a particular season is my secret weapon and the best way that I have found to enjoy every time of year. Pumpkin picking, film nights on the sofa and that hot cup of tea before bed just don’t make sense in the warmer months, but they’re things that I love. As soon as the temperature drops I find my thoughts drifting towards the pumpkin patch and my cosy winter wardrobe. I get excited for museum trips, cosy activities, festive light trails and all of the indoor events that the colder months bring.
This isn’t something I’ve heard many people talk about, and it’s the thing that makes the most difference to my mental health when transitioning into winter.
Shake up Your Routine -
Just like a trip to a pumpkin patch wouldn’t make sense in July, your summer routine needs a little adjustment as you head into the colder months. In summer we tend to go for walks after dinner or take trips to the beach on a Friday night - obviously that doesn’t work in winter, and that absence of routine is often a huge contributing factor to that feeling of being a bit lost as the nights draw in. I like the use the clocks going back as an opportunity to reevaluate how I spend my evenings, although having done this for a few winters I now find I fall back into my winter routine almost without noticing now.
I like to go swimming most mornings and I’ll freely admit that, while it’s still possible in winter, it’s a lot harder to convince myself to go. In summer I could simply roll out of bed, get ready and go. In winter I like to wake up a little earlier (counter-intuitive I know), make a coffee and watch a bit of TV in bed before I get moving. It’s a similar routine, but it allows me to lean into feeling a little more sluggish rather than fighting against it.
In the evening, I finish work and go for a short walk as my kind of “commute” since the sofa is my office. When I get home I wash my face, put pyjamas on and sit on the sofa with a cup of tea. Personally I find it gives me chance to decompress and relax into a cosy evening - in summer we’d normally take a trip to the beach for a debrief after work, so having a winter version of that really helps.
Refresh Your Wardrobe (and your house) -
This is something that is born out of necessity for us as we live in a particularly bijoux house, but it’s something that I have realised helps me mentally commit for the season ahead. We don’t have enough space to keep all of our clothes out all year round, so I vac-pack my out of season clothes so I can store them in the cupboard while they’re not being used. Each winter I get the bags out of storage and spend an afternoon shopping my old wardrobe. I unpack my winter clothes, try everything on to check I still feel good in everything, put anything to one side that needs to be sold or donated, and swap over the contents of my wardrobe. Any money I make from selling last year’s winter clothes on Vinted is my budget to treat myself to some new things that bring more joy.
The same logic applies to the rest of our home. I’m not someone who feels the need to change the sofa cushions every season (mostly due to the aforementioned lack of storage), but I do like to have a few seasonal pieces to freshen up the house. Fluffy warm-toned blankets get placed on the back of the sofa ready for cosy nights in, the autumnal garland gets hung back on the picture frames in the lounge and the candles come out.
I’m not sure why this works as well as it does - maybe it’s having items that spark joy for each season or the feeling of renewing your space for the months ahead, or maybe it’s just having practical items for the season within easy reach, but saying hello to “old friends” in the form of my snuggliest jumpers and cosiest blankets really helps me to feel ready for winter.
A Note about Winter Guilt -
In my opinion, SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) gets thrown about on social media like some kind of badge of honour. I feel like there’s a spectrum of different attitudes to winter, ranging from the “pumpkin spice brigade” all the way to people who actually struggle with SAD, with most people falling somewhere in between.
I spent most of my life sitting firmly towards the “struggling” end of the spectrum, emotionally wrestling with wanting to be someone who doesn’t wish their life away and embraces every season and feeling some kind of guilt for my thought process.
I’ve found that each of these things have helped me shift a little bit closer to the pumpkin spice side of life (even though I can’t stand the stuff personally!). Do I miss summer? Absolutely. But embracing the colder months and trying to find a little enthusiasm for the season helps me enjoy the half of the year that I wasted so many years of my life complaining about. To me, that’s a win that’s worth the effort.